


if the world was ending you'd come over, right?

by EscapingReality51



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Michael and Alex are soulmates, Michael and Alex think they are going to die, Sadness, canon complaint so far, look I just listened to this song and got this mad idea and now there's fanfic, meaning Michael and Maria are a couple but that doesn't last, what would happen if they thought the world was ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24569686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EscapingReality51/pseuds/EscapingReality51
Summary: The world is ending. What do Michael and Alex decide to do with the 12 hours remaining?a.k.aMichael and Alex realise that when the world is ending, all they want is each other.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 23
Kudos: 169





	if the world was ending you'd come over, right?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inloveamateursatbest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inloveamateursatbest/gifts).



> the title is obviously from the song If the World Was Ending by JP Saxe ft. Julia Michaels.
> 
> This fic is for the ever wonderful and amazing Claudia on her birthday <3 happy birthday my love

_ I don’t know if we can stop him. I’m doing all I can, but prepare for the worst. _

Alex stares at his phone. 

The worst means worse than he ever thought possible. 

They had talked about it, in the bunker where Liz had discovered so much. The worst doesn’t mean failure. It means Max can’t stop the attack that is coming, and that means total destruction. It means - Alex pauses, breathes once and then twice and tries to stop the spread of panic but there is just one thought in his mind. It means that they will die within the next twelve hours. The world burns at sunrise.

Two minutes pass where Alex just stares out of his window at the tree moving in the wind, the bird looping overhead, at the world around him until his eyes water. The leaves are so violently green, the sky so impossibly blue, and the clay colour of the earth is more beautiful than he has ever thought. The world around him shines, and the silence passes with Alex looking at it until his heart aches.

The silence is broken by another buzz of his phone, and as soon as he sees the message a weight on his chest lifts, just slightly. 

_ Come over. _

“Maria, I -” 

She is crying on the other end, not the sobs that wrack through your body but the quiet crying that makes your voice hoarse and deep and empty of all emotion. It hurts to listen to, but Michael can do nothing to stop it. His first thought was to call her because that is what he is supposed to do. They are in a relationship, and the world is going to be destroyed. He should want to talk to her.

“I know,” she says. “I need to be with my mother right now. I can’t do anything else.” 

Michael lets out a breath. It is easier than saying what he wanted to say, the first thought that had gone through his mind as he had read the text from Isobel. He can’t go to Maria, not now. Not when the world is ending. 

Alex drives through town faster than he should. 

The turmoil in his head had somewhere along the way turned to perfect clarity. He knew exactly what he wanted, where he wanted to be. The text had just taken away any hesitation he had. Alex didn’t know exactly how much time they had but every minute he had left he wanted to spend with Michael. 

They hadn’t actually been together since high school and the flings and moments they’d had since then were few and far between. But there was a tether that kept them drawn to each other, a permanence to whatever they had that had not disappeared. Michael was the one person in the world who saw Alex for who he was - all he was - and loved all of it.

Michael was his person, and if Alex was going to die… well, he wanted to see Michael one last time.

Michael’s sitting in front of his home on an old chair with a small fire going as Alex pulls up, a beer in one hand and his gaze towards the sky. The sun is setting and the sky is ablaze in colours ranging from blue to pink to orange. His cheeks are wet but Alex can’t blame him. 

“You came,” Michael says. 

Alex walks up and grabs a beer from the six-pack sitting by Michael’s feet, and then sits down next to him. 

“Where’s Maria?” Alex asks. 

Michael wipes away a tear. “She’s with her mother, and she’s not the one -” he starts, but stops, opting to look at Alex instead. 

The rest of the sentence hangs between them with so much weight that Alex’s chest feels heavy. It hurts so much because he feels exactly the same. 

This is the only place he wants to be. 

They sit there together in silence as the sun dips below the horizon, the light fading through all different blues imaginable. They stay there until the stars are visible and the moon casts a silver glow on the world, until they are numbed by several drinks and the vastness of it all. The beers slowly empty and the wind grows cold but every gust of wind against Alex’s skin is a welcome feeling, a wonderful beautiful moment that he wants to cherish forever.

“It’s beautiful here,” Alex says. 

Michael hums in agreement. 

“If the world is going to end…” Michael says. He looks over and with the moon almost full Alex can see the determination on Michael’s face. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be, you know?”

Alex nods. 

Michael finishes his drink and, in a sudden show of decisiveness, gets up, and pulls Alex to his feet. Without another word he grabs Alex by the lapels, presses his lips to Alex’s. 

They are laced with tears, and he tastes of beer but the part of Alex that cared about any of that normally died with that text message, and there are more important things to think about. Like the way Michael smells when they are this close, of sweat and of skin and that smell of rain that makes Alex weak at the knees. There’s Michael’s hands on his face, always pulling him closer as if they can only be too far apart, as if Michael could never get enough. Alex wraps his arms around him and they stumble backwards towards the van, throwing the door open and managing to make it inside without anyone falling over, which is a miracle on top of all the moments in their lives that led them to each other. 

Michael finds the edges of Alex’s leather jacket and pushes it off his shoulders, and Alex lets it drop to the floor. Then Michael finds the hem of his t-shirt and lifts it up, pulling apart only to get it over Alex’s head. Alex follows suit, getting Michael’s jacket and shirt off and then placing his hand on Michael’s bare chest, staring, taking in the sight of Michael, chest heaving and eyes closed as he breathes it all in. 

“I,” Alex starts, and there is so much he wants to say now that they’re together and their world has condensed to just the two of them, and the small caravan. The silence stretches between them and before Alex can consider what he wants to say, Michael’s eyes open and he kisses him, and the world is forgotten. 

Every moment Michael’s hands are on him, Alex can almost forget that the world is going to end. When Alex presses into him, Michael claws at his back and when they move together, Alex doesn’t think there has ever been a better moment in his life. Michael’s face is bliss, flushed and panting, his curls are damp from sweat and his lips are swollen and Alex doesn’t know which he enjoys more, looking at him or kissing him. There’s nothing in the world except the heat between them and the pleasure that shoots through them with each movement. 

Alex couldn’t have wanted anything else. 

Michael’s hand traces along Alex’s jaw, his eyes trace along Alex’s smile, and it fills his chest with a certainty that he hasn’t felt in years. 

“I’m glad you came,” Michael whispers. 

Alex smiles in reply. “Of course I came, you asked me to.” 

Michael leans in for a kiss. “I saw the message from Isobel and I didn’t want to be with anyone else,” he says. “You are my family.” 

Alex pulls him closer and their tongues slide together, soft and warm. 

“How did we get here?” Michael asks. 

Alex shrugs, eyes so dark brown they could swallow Michael whole. “I don’t know but, I never stopped.” 

“Stopped what?” 

Alex snorts. “Come on, Michael. You really going to make me say it?” 

Michael swallows. He knows what Alex means. A part of him all these months had convinced the rest of him that being with Maria - _Maria_ , he thinks and a small stab of regret flows through him \- was the right thing for him, what he wanted. He looks down at Alex, his soft and yet angular face, his cheekbones and his dark eyes and Michael knows that when push comes to shove, he would drown in those eyes for the rest of his life. With the world ending, this is where he needs to be. He wants to say it, he realises. There’s no reason not to. 

“I never stopped loving you,” Michael says. “We didn’t work out but that wasn’t because I didn’t love you.” 

Alex wipes away a tear and when the next one falls, Michael’s thumb is there to catch it. 

“I just want to hold you,” Michael says. 

They lie in silence, Michael’s arm on Alex’s as they stare at each other’s eyes, taking it all in. Alex is beautiful, even in the caravan’s terrible lighting and the faint glow of the moon through the window above Michael’s bed. Michael’s thumb strokes soft circles onto Alex’s skin and watches the rise and fall of Alex’s chest. It’s as close to peaceful he has ever been.

“Do you still have your guitar?” Alex asks, voice soft. 

Michael’s thumb stops at this question. 

“You mean your guitar?” Michael asks. 

Alex’s smile grows wider. “It hasn’t been mine for a while,” he says. “Not since I gave it to you.” 

Michael stares at the hand on Alex’s skin; it is healed now, the scars are gone. He doesn’t quite know why but it is only with Alex that he feels truly comfortable showing it. Being whole is easier with him around. 

“Do you still play?” Alex asks. 

Michael can feel a faint blush in his cheeks. “Yeah, I do.” 

“Does it still quieten all the noise?” 

It is astounding how well Alex knows him. “It does. It was good to get back to doing it, after Max healed my hand. It’s not something I do in front of people.” 

Alex lifts his head onto his hand, propping himself up with his elbow. “Will you play me something?” 

Michael leans over and kisses him, soft and gentle and just because he can. With his lips pressed against Alex’s he whispers “yes,” and sits up. 

The guitar is in his closet, just to keep it away from any prying eyes. He picks it up and sits back down on the bed, places the guitar on his lap and feels his hand start to shake. He hasn’t had an audience since high school, and even then, playing for Alex always made him nervous. 

Sheets ruffle behind him and suddenly he feels Alex’s chest pressed to his back, his chin on Michael’s shoulder, his arm around his waist. Alex kisses him where his neck meets his shoulder and then rests his head, leaning into the embrace. Michael leans back a little to meet him, to try and let him know how much his chest aches at the feeling. 

“I’ve mostly been playing covers,” Michael says. 

Alex nods. 

His fingers start moving and his small caravan fills with music. His hands move as if of their own volition and he closes his eyes, knowing exactly where each finger needs to be and how to create what he has in his mind. Alex stays behind him throughout, an arm around him and his head against him. 

This isn’t a cover - it is a melody he had been working on, one that makes him feel like he has found a place where he is appreciated, loved, a place where he is wanted. When it ends he lets out a long breath, letting go of that feeling. When Alex presses a kiss to his shoulder however, he finds he doesn’t have to.

“I didn’t know when you gave me this guitar,” Michael says, keeping the guitar on his lap, “but music isn’t the only thing that makes my brain go quiet.” 

Alex lifts his head at that, and Michael turns to meet his eye. 

“Yeah?” Alex asks. 

With Alex against him, skin on skin, and nothing keeping them apart his world finally seems to have slotted into place. 

It seems unfair that the thing that made them both realise just how much they wanted this, is also what is going to take it away from them in the morning. 

Michael puts away the guitar and Alex pulls him back down and then they are kissing. The night air is chilly but with their bodies intertwined they can easily stay warm. It doesn’t take long for their embrace to turn heated again, for Alex to moan as they kiss and for Michael to pull Alex beneath him and for them to lose themselves in each other. 

They’re both spent, and Alex’s head is lying on Michael’s chest. He can hear Michael’s heart beating - whatever it is, however it looks, it is his heart and it is the most calming sound Alex has ever heard. Michael’s still here, for now at least. 

A peace has descended that could only come from the certainty of an end, but at least at that end they will be together. Alex will be with the only person he ever really loved, at the end. There’s a beauty in that that gives him a tragic happiness. 

The sky is turning pink, hues of colour that make a dread rise in Alex’s stomach. 

Michael must feel him tense because he presses a kiss to Alex’s head and holds him just that much closer. 

“I know,” he whispers. 

“Remember that night you kissed me in the museum?” Alex asks to distract from not knowing how much time they have left.

“No, I’d forgotten all about it,” Michael says.

Alex rolls his eyes even if he knows that Michael can’t tell. 

“I used to say that I would have stayed in Roswell, if only you hadn’t stopped kissing me.” 

Michael squeezes him gently in response. 

“I never wanted to stop,” Michael says. 

Alex lets out a shaky breath. 

“Well, you don’t have to.” 

So he doesn’t. 

Michael’s body is pressing Alex against the wall of the caravan while they lie on the bed, his arms are framing Alex’s sides and his hands are on Alex’s face, in his hair. The sun is rising, illuminating the small space that has now become their entire world and they don’t even know. Alex is too absorbed in kissing Michael until the very end, soft languid kisses that make his toes curl and his back arch into it. 

Michael’s tongue curls behind his teeth and Alex wants him so much it hurts. 

“I love you,” he says in between heated kisses. 

“I love you too Alex.” 

Nothing more needs to be said, and so they don’t waste seconds talking when they could be kissing. 

A knock at the door breaks them apart, but they are still intertwined on the bed, still naked. None of them moves to open the door. 

“Michael, it’s me.” Isobel’s voice is clear. “We did it, Max did it.” 

Alex looks up at Michael. His eyes are wide, confused, shocked. Alex looks down between them, and back up at Michael.

“Wait” Michael shouts, and Isobel’s footsteps stop in the gravel.

“I don’t understand -” Alex starts but Michael interrupts.

“I can go out and meet her,” Michael asks and Alex can’t believe he is still trying to protect him. 

Alex shakes his head. “I’m done hiding.” 

“Iz, come on in!” Michael shouts, and throws a blanket over their bodies. 

Isobel’s a mess; her hair is caked in grime and her clothes are covered in soot and she storms in, with a great big smile on her face. 

“Michael I -” she says but stops when her eyes fall on them. Her smile doesn’t disappear but it changes. 

“Hi,” Alex says. 

“Isobel, what’s happening?” 

She rushes to the bed and embraces them both, first Michael and then Alex, paying no mind to the state they are in and they pay no mind to hers. 

“I thought it was all going to be over,” Isobel said. “I thought I’d lost you.” She looks between them and her gaze is full of love. “Both of you.”

Alex takes a deep breath and then another. “What… what do you mean?” 

Her grin is back and she places a hand on Michael’s cheek. “He did it,” she says. “He stopped it.” 

It’s too much to take - Alex feels a sob, feels tears on his cheek that he has no chance of stopping. It’s not over. They’re not going to die, Michael isn’t going to die. And then they are all crying, hugging, laughing, their arms around one another. 

Isobel showers in Michael’s little shower while they get dressed. Afterwards they drive out to Max’s house, gather together with Liz and Max and Kyle and try to understand what has gone on. The entire time, Alex holds Michael’s hand in his. 

Max is alive, though he looks a little worse for wear. Liz has mascara stained tear tracks down her cheeks but has never looked happier, nestled into the crook of Max’s shoulder on the couch. Kyle sees their hands, and gives Alex a lifted eyebrow and all Alex can do is smile. 

Michael’s phone goes off during the meeting, and he looks at his phone and then lets go of Alex’s hand, a sequence of events that quickly makes Alex aware that the world isn’t ending anymore. Michael picks up and within 15 minutes Maria is there, eyes puffy and red from crying, and she gives everyone a hug, and then they are all crying again. 

Michael doesn’t take Alex’s hand after.

When the story has been told and the excitement gives way to bone-deep fatigue, Alex makes his way to Liz and quietly asks for a lift home.

Somehow, Michael and Maria end up at the bar at 9 in the morning. 

Michael didn’t even see Alex leave, didn’t get a chance to talk to him before but after Maria arrived Alex couldn’t meet his eye. 

Before, he had thought that he needed to move on from him but now he understood himself far, far better. Maria was great, he really thought so, but even when they were together, the noise was still there. It might quieten, but it never disappeared. Not like it did with Alex. 

She hands him a beer over the counter, and then walks around to sit next to him. They haven’t spoken much, and Michael knows that as soon as he opens his mouth he will have to say things that she doesn’t want to hear. 

“So,” she says, taking a sip of her own drink. “What did you do last night?” 

The question is spoken, and it floats between them, laced with such anger and hurt that Michael almost flinches. A part of him knows that she is aware of what has happened, but he has to say it to her anyway. He can’t start all this by lying. 

“I was with Alex,” he says. 

She takes another sip and then nods, eyes staring ahead but fixed on nothing. She doesn’t say anything, and the longer she stays silent the more Michael feels a heat under his skin - it should be shame but he knows that nothing about his feelings for Alex are shameful. 

“Look, De Luca -” 

“Don’t call me that,” she says, eyes filled with anger. 

“I care about you, a lot. You made me think that I could be cared for by someone…”

“Who wasn’t Alex?” she finishes. 

Michael swallows. “I love being with you, but… I love him.” 

He meets her eye and he can see them brimming over, and then tears spill down her cheeks. “I know,” she says. “Maybe some part of me has always known.” 

She smiles with tears falling freely now, a horrible juxtaposition of pain and happiness. Michael hates himself a little for causing it. 

“I’m glad you realised it,” she says, after a silence that could have lasted hours but only lasts minutes. “You should go.” 

Michael knows she is right. “I think you’re amazing, Maria. I didn’t want to hurt you.” 

Maria doesn’t answer, doesn’t look at him. 

Michael gets up and goes to his van. 

Alex hears the knock just as he is about to get into bed; he hasn’t slept in over 24 hours and his head feels heavy but his mind is running at a million miles an hour. Whether he can sleep or not, he needs rest, but when the knock becomes forceful, Alex pauses. 

“I know you’re here,” Michael’s voice sounds through the door. 

His stomach drops. 

He doesn’t bother to get dressed, he just slowly walks to the door and braces himself for what’s to come. 

Michael looks exhausted; the shadows present are made even more dark by the hat that rests on his brow. When he sees Alex, however, he smiles. 

“Hi,” he says, and Alex’s stomach flutters.

Alex leaves the door open and walks into his living room. 

“Why are you here, Guerin?” 

It is cold and Michael should hesitate but he doesn’t. He just walks in, takes off his jacket, hangs his hat on the side of Alex’s couch. 

“You really think I’m letting you go that easy?” Michael asks. 

A part of Alex wants to bite back, to say something hurtful, to fall back into old habits of speaking half truths and almost wrecking this all over again. It’s easier than acknowledging what he really wants but never thought he would have again. But then Michael smiles, and his green eyes shine, and Alex uncrosses his arms. 

Michael gives him a once-over. “You’re going to bed?” he asks.

Alex nods. “Was up all night.” 

Michael smiles a wicked smile, and Alex takes a step closer. 

“What’re you doing here, Michael?” he asks. 

Michael’s eyes are dancing between Alex’s eyes and his lips, his own mouth is curled into a smug smile that has always made Alex weak at the knees. 

“It’s over with Maria,” he says. “I told her.” 

Alex nods. Relief floods him, followed by regret, guilt, pain. What kind of friend is he to even be doing this? 

“I don’t care if you’re done hiding, I’ll wait for you if you want,” Michael says. 

The thought of being openly gay, kissing Michael in public… it no longer seems dangerous, it seems thrilling. There’s nothing he wants to do more. The fear of dying made everything so clear. 

“I don’t want to hide anymore,” Alex says. 

Michael takes a step towards him, shrugs off his jacket and throws it over the back of the couch. 

“If I remember correctly, you said you loved me.” Michael’s eyes are shining with glee. 

“You said it too,” Alex says. 

Michael concedes that fact with a shrug. and then takes another step. They are within arms reach of one another now, and that sweet smell of rain fills the air. 

“I did,” Michael says. “I do.” 

The happiness that fills him isn’t laced with pain now, or fear. He isn’t afraid of losing Michael now. He knows he never really did. 

He takes out a hand and finds Michael’s, tugging him back towards the bedroom. 

“Stay the night?” he asks. 

Michael snorts. “It’s 11 a.m.” 

“I know,” Alex says. 

It doesn’t take long before their clothes are piled on the floor and Michael pulls Alex in for a kiss and, with his chest so full it feels like it could burst, Alex pulls him down onto the bed. Alex has never been more certain of what he wants, and for the first time in his life, he realises he might get it. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> if you made it this far, any kudos and comments are much appreciated! I'm escapingreality51 on tumblr if you want to come and say hi :)


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